A Yankee Flier in Italy Part 18

Pulling out his sheath knife Stan began cutting a hole in the hedge. The hedge had been carefully tended by the Bolero gardener. The limbs of the shrubs had been entwined and laced together, making the hedge almost a solid wall. Stan cut away a large hole, leaving only a few branches over the inside to hide his work. Getting down he crawled into the opening.

The guard was standing facing the spot where Stan was crouching. A floodlight in the yard made the whole place as light as day. Stan watched the other guards as they moved about. Under a tree at the entrance to the yard a heavy machine gun had been planted. A crew of three men manned the gun. It was set to cover the three jails and the whole yard.

The situation looked hopeless. With so much light an attack could not be engineered. Suddenly Stan's lips pulled into a straight line. He had a bright thought. The yards and grounds had never been lighted up so completely by the Bolero family. That meant the Germans had strung a lot of wire. If he could locate the main line and cut it, he could plunge the place in darkness long enough to break into the shed where his pals were being held.

After studying the yard and the lighting, Stan decided the wires came in from the big barn. Working his way around the sheds he came to a spot where a wide and well-lighted roadway separated them from the big barn.

Four Germans guarded the road and they were well s.p.a.ced. Again he was blocked.

Then he noticed that a set of heavy wires came down from somewhere in the darkness to the corner of the big barn. They swung in from high above his head. Stan grinned. The electricity for the whole villa came in from behind the barns. It was like General Bolero to have unsightly power poles at the back of his estate. Stan turned and headed into the woods. He was looking for a power line pole.

The job of locating a pole among a forest of trees was not easy, but Stan had the general location from the run of the lines. After a few minutes of hunting he located the pole and got set to climb it. He stacked his things at the base of the pole. He would have to slide down in a hurry and dash to the attack. He hoped there would be plenty of confusion. He also hoped the lead-in wires were insulated. The line was at least 220-volt, because there were three wires leading to the barn.

Climbing up the pole Stan came to a transformer. Gingerly he tested one of the wires with the hard rubber handle of his knife. Nothing happened, so he started sawing away. He was not shorted by any part of the transformer or any wire he might be touching in the darkness. The wire was thick and heavy but it was copper and his sharp knife bit into it.

With a tug Stan severed the heavy wire and felt it go twisting away into the darkness, which had suddenly become very black because all of the lights in and around the villa had snapped off.

Stan almost fell down the pole. He heard shouting and bellowing from the yard. Shots were fired and flashlights began to stab back and forth.

Stan grabbed his machine gun and leaped into the road leading to the small barns. Suddenly the machine gun under the tree opened up. The Germans knew a prison delivery attempt was on. Stan halted and pulled a grenade from the sack slung over his shoulder. Jerking the pin, he tossed it just as he had often tossed a forward pa.s.s in a football game.

A sharp roar and a flash of fire told him the grenade had gone off, and the sudden ceasing of the staccato voice of the machine gun told him he had scored a hit. He did not have time to look as he charged toward the kennels. He ran into a German and knocked the soldier down with the barrel of his machine gun. Reaching the door he came to grips with three Germans. They had an electric lantern and they spotted him closing in, but not quick enough. Stan's tommy-gun blasted them off the wide stone flagging before the door.

"Hi, Allison! O'Malley!" Stan hit the door with his shoulder in a leaping dive. He went cras.h.i.+ng into the room with the door draped around him.

"Stan!" O'Malley roared from the darkness.

"Here! Get close to me and follow me!" Stan shouted as he staggered to his feet.

Outside, the flaming and the sound of Stan's tommy-gun had given away his location. Rifles and pistols began blasting away. Bullets splintered the front of the building.

"Get down low!" Allison called.

A dozen men had rushed out of the kennels, carrying Stan with them. He heard a man groan and go down as a bullet hit him.

"Here!" he bellowed.

O'Malley and Allison located him. They knew just about where he was headed. Wiggling along on their hands and knees, the three fliers moved to the hole in the hedge.

They slid through and, paused. "Where's Tony and Arno?" Stan asked.

"In the shed next to ours," Allison answered. "They were captured the day we were shot down."

"Sure, an' if you'll wait I'll go beat down the door," O'Malley whispered.

"We'll all go," Stan answered. "We'll batter open both prisons."

The three, keeping close together, circled and charged into the ma.s.s of milling Germans. They were not spotted because there was little light.

Flashlight beams stabbed here and there, but none of the fingers of light found the three Yanks. They actually shouldered their way to within a few yards of the first door.

"I'll take this one, you and O'Malley take the other. I'll clear the way with the tommy-gun," Stan hissed.

He opened up with a burst of fire which scattered the Germans, then charged the door. O'Malley and Allison smashed the other door. Stan heard the shouts of the prisoners as they piled out. He backed away as men lunged out of the building he had opened. Stan thanked his luck that the doors had been built out of light plywood. He leaped aside and turned his submachine gun on the Germans. He swung his arc of fire across the yard and sent the n.a.z.is charging for cover.

Ceasing his fire he ducked for the hole in the hedge. Allison was already there, but O'Malley had not showed up.

"Hope he hasn't gotten any crazy ideas," Stan growled.

"He probably has," Allison said. "How'd you douse the lights?"

"I cut the main line, but they'll locate the break and fix it in a hurry."

Suddenly they heard O'Malley coming. He ducked through the hedge. Behind him came two other men. O'Malley had stayed to locate Tony and Arno.

"How did you find us?" Tony asked excitedly.

"Allison got someone to smuggle out a note. I have a bomber up on your secret field to take us off, if we can get up there," Stan answered.

"It's so dark, I don't know whether we can locate the path."

Arno laughed softly. "We will lead you and we will show you how to take off in the dark."

"I'm glad you're along," Stan said.

Arno led the way up the trail. He moved along at a fast pace. He knew every twist and turn in the trail. The Yanks were hard put to keep up with him. Tony brought up the rear, which helped to keep the party together.

They reached the little meadow that served as a runway. Arno led them straight to the hidden parking ground. Here they halted under the wing of the Mosquito.

"What you flying?" O'Malley asked.

"A Mosquito bomber," Stan answered.

"One o' them wood crates?" O'Malley asked. He did not try to hide his disgust.

Stan laughed. "And I'm flying her, see? I wouldn't ride in as fast and tricky a s.h.i.+p as this Mosquito with you at the controls."

"I'll bet me auld grandmother could fly as fast," O'Malley said.

"The lights are on below," Arno broke in. "I hear German soldiers coming up the slope through the woods."

"They have a big force down there," Allison said. "I'll bet they comb this mountainside."

"We'll never be able to take off as black as it is," Stan said. "We'll have to wait for the first light so we can see something."

"By that time the Germans will have found the s.h.i.+p. See the lights flas.h.i.+ng in the woods below?" Tony spoke sharply.

Arno laughed. "Now I will show you how we took off on black nights. Will your bomber lift in a hurry?"

"Faster than a Nardi fighter," Stan said.

"Wait. I will show you," Arno said and disappeared into the blackness.